


Play It Again

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: tumblr ficlets [130]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Future Fic, Old Married Couple, Retirement, and the riker-troi family, references to Star Trek: Picard, theyre just so in love after all these years, this is ridiculously sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: They've had a lot of good years together. Data knows to savor the little moments.
Relationships: Data/Tasha Yar
Series: tumblr ficlets [130]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1250822
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Play It Again

**Author's Note:**

> I took some liberties with this prompt - I was only given one, but I turned it into a combination prompt anyway. The three prompts were: soft kiss, holding shopping bags that are too heavy for them, your favorite song on repeat for the hundredth time

Data glanced up when the door banged open, his fingers pausing momentarily on the Risian lute he’d been playing, the last note still vibrating through his fingers as Tasha staggered in, laden with bags. She glanced over at him, and smirked, “Well, don’t stop on my account.”

Data set the instrument aside, moving from the sofa to help his wife with the bags. She had two sashed over her shoulder, knocking against her hip as she moved, and another two on each arm, her muscles visibly straining as she hauled them towards the kitchen of their little homestead. Data liberated four of them from her, in spite of her protests, latching the screen door behind her with his free hand. He set the bags on the kitchen table while Tasha dropped hers to the floor, folding her arms and raising her eyebrows at him.

Her sleeveless tunic left her arms bare, tanned from her time in the sun, and her hair had been gathered up with a string, pulled into a low ponytail that bared most of her neck, a few escaped strands curling with the heat. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion, and it was this collective, beautiful picture that Data would blame for the moment it took him to respond. Time had been kind to Tasha, and middle age suited her. It was a thought he’d had before, but it still managed to catch him off guard every time.

“I wished to assist you,” he said. “You were having difficulties.”

“I was doing fine,” Tasha needled good-naturedly. She crouched to begin unpacking. “I may not be as fit as I was at thirty, but I can still kick your ass.”

“Of course, dear.” Data opened the bags on the table, removing items from them and organizing them on the table by where they belonged, while Tasha moved around him, shelving items one at a time. They had done it enough times that stepping out of her way was easy, a cue as familiar as the dance steps he had taught her for their wedding, over two decades ago. He smiled to himself, and Tasha pinched his side.

“You’ve got that look again,” she teased. “Wedding or honeymoon?”

“Am I so predictable?”

“To me, you are.” Tasha gave him a quick peck on the cheek, her hand lingering for just a moment before she went back to work.

“It was our wedding,” Data told her. “I was thinking about our first dance.”

Tasha chuckled. “I remember.” She twirled, her layered skirt flaring around her legs, and Data watched, a swell of affection surging over him. She caught the edge of the table, grinning at him. “My feet were sore for weeks.”

“I did tell you to sit down.”

“I wasn’t going to sit down. It was my wedding!” Tasha bumped Data’s hip with her own, reaching around him to pluck the vine of tomatoes from his grip. “Besides, it wasn’t like we didn’t spend plenty of our honeymoon laying around.”

“I seem to recall someone insisting that rock-climbing was vital to our enjoyment of the time off.”

“Aside from that.” A breeze rustled in through the open window, ruffling Tasha’s hair. She brushed it back out of her face, and the wooden slats beneath their feet creaked as Tasha rocked back on her heels. “Besides. You would have carried me if I got too tired.”

Data scooped her up now, depositing her on the table as Tasha squeaked with delight, throwing her arms around his neck for balance. “Data!”

He rubbed his nose against hers. “I enjoy carrying you,” he murmured.

Tasha’s fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, slipping under the collar to swipe gently along his skin. “I like it when you carry me too,” she whispered, and tilted her head up to press a soft kiss to his lips before leaning back again. She tapped his chest with a hand. “Come on. We need to finish unpacking. Will and Deanna are coming by later, and if things are still a mess when their shuttle drops them off, Thad and Kestra will make off with all the crackers.”

“It has been a few years since we have seen them. Perhaps their children are better behaved now.”

Tasha gave him a sceptical look, but it broke with her smile. “Because an older Troi-Riker never got into any trouble.”

“A fair point.”

Tasha hopped off the table, scooping up a handful of vegetables and depositing them into a basket by the sink. “Is it weird that I miss having kids in the house? I mean, they never really lived here, but…”

Data set a hand on her shoulder. “I am familiar with the sensation.” Tatum had been a junior grade lieutenant, and Lyra and Aletris pursuing their training at Starfleet Medical and the Vulcan Science Exchange respectively well before Data and Tasha had even claimed this house as a temporary vacation home, much less by the time they’d retired. Having time to themselves was nice, but that didn’t make the quiet less disconcerting at times.

He wrapped his arms around Tasha’s waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. “We could have another one, if you would like.”

Tasha laughed and elbowed him gently. “The last time you said, ‘let’s think about adopting,’ we ended up with three in two years. I’m not sure I have that kind of stamina anymore.”

“Your stamina appears sufficient to me.” Data grinned as Tasha shoved him lightly. “I was referring to your outburst earlier. Surely, if you do not need my assistance with the groceries, chasing after children should not be an issue.”

Tasha rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“A fact which I am constantly thankful for.”

Tasha groaned theatrically. “How did I end up marrying the cheesiest man alive?”

“As I understand it, I proposed, and you accepted.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Tasha shook her head, but she was grinning. “What was I thinking?” She dragged Data in by the front of his vest, pulling him until his chest was flush with hers. Data glanced down at her lips, then back to her eyes, and Tasha smiled coyly. She leaned in, and then stopped, shoving gently, “Finish your work, mister, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Promise?”

She laughed and pushed a little harder. “What happened to the innocent Data I met on the _Enterprise_? The one who wouldn’t understand a joke like that, much less _make_ one?”

“He fell in love with a _very_ demanding woman.” Data swooping in to steal one last kiss, then darted away before Tasha could retaliate, folding up the discarded bags and returning them to their rightful place by the door before helping Tasha finish up in the kitchen.

When they were done, Tasha collapsed onto the sofa, picking up Data’s lute and plucking absently at the strings. “What were you playing before?”

Data sat beside her and took the instrument from her, adjusting it as Tasha snuggled into his side. “I was transposing,” he said.

“Oh?” She tilted her head up to look at him, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Which song?”

Data feigned like he hadn’t heard her, tightening one of the strings to retune the sound. Tasha nudged him. “It’s our song, isn’t it? The one you wrote for me?”

Data fought a smile as he settled the lute in his lap, plucking the opening chords. He stopped abruptly and teased, “You have heard it many times. You must be tired of it by now.”

“Just shut up and play the damn song,” Tasha said, and Data grinned, resettling the instrument in his arms and letting the melody wash out into the little cabin. Tasha closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder. Data closed his eyes too, playing from memory, and let the bubble envelope them for just this moment.


End file.
